


Five Impressive Gifts He Gave Her (And One Impressive Gift She Gave Him That Topped Them All)

by afteriwake



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: 5 Times, Christmas Fluff, Christmas Presents, Drabble Collection, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Long-Term Relationship(s), Marriage Proposal, Pregnancy, Romantic Friendship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-12
Updated: 2015-09-12
Packaged: 2018-04-20 09:05:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,262
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4781654
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/afteriwake/pseuds/afteriwake
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock has tried, each year, to make up for the disastrous Christmas party, with the gifts getting more and more grand. But it turns out the best gift of all didn’t cost either of them a thing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Five Impressive Gifts He Gave Her (And One Impressive Gift She Gave Him That Topped Them All)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Sherlockian_87](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sherlockian_87/gifts), [daisherz365](https://archiveofourown.org/users/daisherz365/gifts).



> So my apologies for this coming, like, waaaay late, but I was distracted by the wonderfulness that is Angela Lansbury in "Death on the Nile." _Anyway_. This is the fluffy fic I promised **Sherlockian_87** I would write yesterday, based on a headcanon by **[daisherz365](http://sincerelydayyy.tumblr.com/post/121217446585/let-there-be-headcanons-ii)** (" _Sherlock having to come up with better gifts every Christmas to make up for the one he mucked up_ "). Hope you both enjoy!
> 
> (Also, for anyone curious about what the gifts look like: [Gift 1](http://s15.postimg.org/iwfofa0mj/Gift_1.jpg), [Gift 2](http://s15.postimg.org/6j2u8day3/Gift_2.jpg), [Gift 3](http://s15.postimg.org/7b5i7kf57/Gift_3.jpg), [Gift 5](http://s15.postimg.org/swakv6bvv/Gift_5.jpg) & [Gift 6](http://s15.postimg.org/vzbayjquj/Gift_6.jpg). You can buy Gift 1 [here](https://www.etsy.com/listing/151430678/eiffel-tower-glass-globe-necklace-winter?ref=market).)

**Christmas 2012**

It was a miserable Christmas.

It had been raining nonstop since early Christmas Eve and there was a leak in her flat that had been loud and obnoxious all night. John was still not talking to any of them, Lestrade was spending the day with his daughter since he’d managed to get her for her Christmas break as opposed to his wife. Mrs. Hudson had asked her over for tea and if she felt up to it after the shift she was covering at Barts she was going to go over. But otherwise it would be her and takeaway and a bottle of wine to celebrate the holiday.

It was all so different than last year. Last year had been the party, and while it had not been terribly pleasant, it hadn’t been as dour as this. Sherlock was there. Sherlock was “alive.” No one was depressed and they were all together, albeit briefly. 

Funny how much things changed in a year.

She got out of bed and made her way into the kitchen, and she almost missed the small parcel on her kitchen worktop. It was postmarked from France, and she smiled. Mycroft must have deposited it at some point. She forgot about her coffee and breakfast for a moment before opening the small paper wrapped box. Inside the padding was a necklace. There was a small globe filled with fake snow at the base of the chain, and then in a larger globe underneath there was a miniature Eiffel Tower inside with more fake snow. She smiled as she ran her finger along the filigree on the bottom of the larger globe. This was a lovely gift.

After a moment she noticed an envelope in the parcel. She pulled it out and looked at the card. It was a white card that said “Joyeux Noel” in gold lettering with a red border around it. She opened the card and saw Sherlock’s distinct handwriting. _A bit of Paris for you to keep close,_ it read. She smiled as she fingered his note. Perhaps Christmas was looking up after all.

**Christmas 2013**

She hadn’t expected not to be alone this year. She’d spent so many Christmas mornings alone that it was a surprise to not be alone for one. It felt…strange. Very nice, of course, but strange all the same. She wouldn’t let Tom see it, though. She’d get through the day with a smile on her face and enjoy the fact that she wasn’t alone.

She woke up early, as she did every Christmas, and after making some coffee she made her way out to her tree. It was still dark enough that she could turn on the lights and enjoy them by herself for a few moments. She went to go turn them on, kneeling down by the tree, when she noticed a large present she hadn’t seen before. There was a tag on the gift and she noticed it simply stated her name in the To section and Holmes in the From section.

 _This must be from Sherlock,_ she thought to herself, a feeling of warmth in her stomach. She hadn’t been sure she would hear anything from him, get any gift from him this year, as Mycroft was quite mum about what he was doing. She just knew he was deep undercover right now. She smiled as she undid the ribbon and then peeled away the paper. Once she opened it she gasped.

Inside was a beautiful brass standing hand mirror that was mounted above a dish to hold jewelry. It was decorated with what appeared to be flowers and vines. It looked antique, and as she lifted it out of the box she saw it was just the right size for her vanity. She looked inside for a note of some sort, either from Sherlock or Mycroft, but found none. That was a pity.

After a moment she put it back in the box and then put the box back to the side. Tom would probably ask about it, and she’d just say it was from Mycroft. Tom simply didn’t understand about her relationship with Sherlock, and she doubted an exquisite gift like this would change things.

**Christmas 2014**

She was still angry that he’d gotten high on drugs, that he’d been involved with that _woman_ , that he’d gotten _shot_ …that whole day had been an utter debacle from start to finish. But what had hurt the most was that he was planning _something_ and he hadn’t thought to confide in her.

Sherlock Holmes was an unmitigated bastard sometimes.

She woke up Christmas morning and forced herself to get out of bed. It was hard to do, had been ever since her engagement had ended. She was tired of sleeping alone again, tired of _being_ alone. But she supposed that was her lot in life. With a sigh, she went to the sitting room and stopped.

She was not alone.

Sherlock was in a chair, a brightly wrapped present in his lap. “Happy Christmas,” he said.

She nodded to him. “Happy Christmas,” she said. “Coffee?”

He shook his head. “No. I need to leave soon. I have preparations to make.” He stood up, moving towards her, present in hand. “Here. My attempt to make up for the horrible Christmas.”

She frowned at his words. “Horrible Christmas?”

“The party,” he said. “When I humiliated you.”

“Oh!” she said, her eyes widening. “Sherlock, it’s all right, honestly.”

“Still. I want to try.” He pushed the present towards her. “Please, open this. I’d like to see your reaction.”

She gave him a strange look and then unwrapped the gift. She gasped when she got it undone and turned the book in her hands to look at the spine. “Sherlock, is this one of the 1894 Sangorski and Sutcliffe editions?” she asked.

He nodded. “Pride and Prejudice is one of your favorite books, is it not?” he asked quietly.

“Yes, it is,” she said. She shifted her hold on the book and then embraced him. “Oh, thank you, Sherlock. Thank you so much.”

He embraced her back. “Just promise to think of me fondly when you view it.”

“I will,” she said. His tone sounded so sad, his words so final, that she just hugged him tighter. Hopefully things would go well today.

**Christmas 2015**

She had been lucky. Her last Christmas had started off on a sad note but Sherlock’s had been far worse. His plan had backfired, and it had done so spectacularly. Because of that he was supposed to be sent away on a one way trip to his death. He’d come to see her before he went away and she had done what she’d wanted to do for so long and kissed him.

And he’d kissed her back, among so much more.

That left them in an interesting position when Moriarty’s video aired. He came to Barts to make sure she was okay and then accompanied her to her flat and intimated he was not leaving until the problem was taken care of. Eleven and a half months later, aside from a change of residence for her, that was still the case.

Even though he’d wrapped up the Moriarty problem three weeks ago, she didn’t see that changing, either.

Now, however, she was enjoying a more tropical locale this Christmas morning. Sherlock had surprised her with tickets for a week at the Sandals LaSource Resort in Grenada. They were booked in the South Seas Honeymoon suite and she was awed every moment they were there. They’d taken advantage of the unlimited scuba diving and watersports during the day and had fine dining and entertainment every night. She’d even enjoyed the spa a few times.

She stretched lazily in the king size bed and then curled up into Sherlock. He pulled her closer against him, his hand drifting across her abdomen. “Happy Christmas,” he murmured by her ear.

“Happy Christmas,” she said, snuggling against him as his hand drifted lower. “Are we going to open gifts soon?”

“At some point,” he said. “I thought we might linger in bed for a while. After all, this is a much deserved vacation. It gives us a reason to stay in bed.”

“It does,” she said, shutting her eyes as he began to tease her, biting her lip and moaning as he pressed a kiss to her neck. This, she decided, was _definitely_ her best Christmas yet.

**Christmas 2016**

This was shaping up to be the worst Christmas she’d had in a long time. There was a serial killer terrorizing London who was escalating and both she and Sherlock had been working for countless hours over the course of _so_ many weeks to try and stop him. They hadn’t even had time to decorate Baker Street for the holiday, so now that it was time for them to come home for the evening it was to a festiveless flat.

Sherlock set down the sack of takeaway containing their dinner on the kitchen worktop. “I’m sorry this isn’t the Christmas we planned,” he said, taking out the different containers.

“It’s all right,” she said, moving into the kitchen behind him. She went to the refrigerator and pulled out a bottle of wine. “Are you any closer to catching the killer?”

“Closer,” he said with a nod. 

“Good.” She pulled down a wine glass and poured herself some wine. He gave her a look and she laughed. “You want this?”

“It might be nice,” he said.

She pulled down another glass and then poured him one as well. She went to hand him the glass and saw he had a small box in his hands with a bow on top. Her eyes were wide. “Sherlock?”

“I had thought, since we were already living together, since we love each other and we’re committed to each other and this relationship is important to us both …” He paused. “I love you, Molly, more than I love anyone in the world. I want to spend the rest of my life with you, if you’re willing.”

“Oh, yes! Of course!” she said, setting down the glass and putting her hand out and he slipped the ring onto it. It was a dark silver ring with a large diamond in the center and then petals around it with smaller diamonds in the center of each petal. “It’s stunning.”

He pulled her close. “I think you’ve made me the happiest I’ve ever been,” he murmured before kissing her and she reveled in the joy of it all.

**Christmas 2017**

He still hadn’t guessed.

She was quite shocked by that, to be honest. She thought for _sure_ by now he would have figured out she was pregnant. Granted, she had only figured it out a few scant days before, but he was supposed to be one of the world’s most brilliant men. _Surely_ he would have had it all figured out by now, right down to the minute of conception, or at least the hour. But it appeared he was none the wiser, which was perfect for her Christmas plans.

They’d spent the whole morning opening gifts. She’d told him she’d bought special mugs for the occasion, and she’d watched him study his mug for a moment before giving up on figuring out what made it so special. Of course it wasn’t on the outside of the mug; no, that was too obvious. Just like she was carrying the baby on the inside, the surprise was _inside_ the mug. But he was so anxious for her to open her gifts he wasn’t touching his coffee, and it was making her cross.

Finally she got to her last gift, and she could tell it was a bottle of something she’d probably love to drink under other circumstances. She opened the box and read the label. “Bonneau du Martray, Corton Charlemagne, 2010,” she said, feeling her stomach do a little lurch. Wonderful. Even the sight of wine was enough to make her feel ill. This didn’t bode well.

“I thought you’d be happier,” he said with a frown.

“I am,” she said. “I just—” She felt it now and she scrambled up and raced to the washroom, making it just in time to heave her guts out.

“Are you all right?” he asked, sounding concerned.

“Fine,” she said, heaving. “Just finish your coffee.”

“But Molly—”

“ _Finish your coffee,_ ” she said between gritted teeth.

There was a long pause, and then the door opened. He looked down at her with wide eyes. “I’m going to be a father?” he asked, shocked.

She nodded. “In roughly seven months.”

Suddenly a huge grin flashed across his face. “I’m going to be a father!” he said excitedly. She smiled despite herself, glad he was so happy. Then her stomach lurched and she turned back to the toilet. Instantly he was concerned again. “Anything I can do?”

She nodded again after the nausea had passed. “Wet a washcloth and hand it to me,” she said.

He got a washcloth and took it to the sink, wetting it for her and then handing it to her. After a moment he knelt down next to her and rubbed her back as she wiped her mouth. “We’ll just save the wine for when you bring the baby home,” he said. “I think seven months is long enough to get it chilled to the perfect temperature.”

She laughed and then turned to hug him. “Oh, Sherlock. I do love you.”

He embraced her back. “I love you too, Molly.”


End file.
